


Untitled Romance Story (Featuring A Goose)

by Rosencrantz



Category: Untitled Goose Game (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, I Ship It, naming the nameless, pov switch from canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:48:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21727789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosencrantz/pseuds/Rosencrantz
Summary: Nigel loves Loretta. The Goose doesn't care. The Goose is an unstoppable force that cannot be contained.Graphic scenes of drinking ginger ale at a pub.
Relationships: Tidy Neighbour/Messy Neighbour (Untitled Goose Game)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 51
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Untitled Romance Story (Featuring A Goose)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GoggledMonkey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoggledMonkey/gifts).



> Thank you to Vali for the beta!
> 
> Note: I watched a play through of this before I tried it myself for my own canon review and I regretted every moment I thought 'wow, how are you screwing up stealing The Man's shoe, it's SO EASY'
> 
> I regretted it so much.

Once upon a time, in a lovely village, there was a horrible goose.

This goose was so horrible that in just a few hours, it had ruined the day for everyone in the village.

The goose pestered the gardener. Tormented a child. Stole from a shopkeeper.

But worst of all, at least to Nigel (the tidiest man in the village), it had ruined his chances with Loretta. 

Loretta. His beautiful next door neighbour. Her nose was a divine shade of peach. Her hair, the softest brown. And she was an artist! Therein lay the trouble.

Because, as well as being a fine painter, Loretta enjoyed sculpting and _pottery_.

And that had been Nigel's ruin.

The horrible goose, which Nigel had last seen making like a bandit through his neighbour's home--honking all the way, like some sort of old serial villain--had spent yesterday bringing him Loretta's things. He'd thought it was charming! At first. Like a little orange-beaked cupid. Well, as charming as a goose could be. Before the honking really started. At least it didn't hiss.

It brought Loretta's life into his yard.

Loretta's socks. Loretta's fish statue. Loretta's soap. Loretta's **bra** (and what a sweet woman, she hadn't accused him of stealing it). And each one, he'd quickly returned by tossing over the fence.

Then that damned goose.

That cursed goose.

Had brought Loretta's vase. Her vase that had won the village fair's annual Fine Arts Blue Ribbon. He'd watched her make it, sipping his coffee, chatting with her about this and that. What a divine day that had been!

And then. Avoiding the angry, honking goose.

He'd thrown the vase over.

The fence.

As he heard it smash, he knew dinner (that dinner he'd spent so long working up the courage to ask her to!) was off that night.

She'd been so angry, she'd _cut his prize rose_. It was symbolic, he was sure. A woman like Loretta was symbolic. She had it in her _veins_. He loved it. He wanted more of it. Also, he wanted his rose back. 

His fairytale romance was over because of that horrible goose. Whose goose was it? Did geese need owners? Was this what they did when they went feral? It had chased poor little Cyrus Tubley straight into a phone box with a malevolent intelligence, for God's sake!

And it had stolen his slippers and dumped them in his fountain. He still hadn't found his hat and pipe!

***

"It even stole my sign!" said Christine Tubley, scrubbing a pint glass. "And I don't know where we'll get the money to replace Cyrus's bloody glasses! An' the cost of our tomatoes! You know, I should make goose the special for tomorrow night. One entire goose."

Nigel had gone to the pub to drown his sorrows after the goose's rampage. It wasn't helping.

"What's got you all dim?" asked Amina. "One of your sports things lost?"

"My cricket team is doing just _fine_ ," he said. "You wouldn't understand."

"Probably not," said Amina. "I've known you twenty years and you're always somewhere else." (Ah, the ever-present reminder that Amina was new to the village.)

"I broke Loretta's prize-winning vase," said Nigel. 

"Went on a spree?"

"No!"

"Tripped on it?" she asked.

"I, er, I threw it. Over a fence."

"Oh, so you _actually_ broke it. This isn't just some cute misunderstanding," Amina said, sipping her ginger ale. "The kind in those films where there's a happy ending. What, were you mad at her?"

"There was... a goose."

"You were aiming at the goose? Violent."

"No! No. Oh, this is a mess." Nigel rubbed his face. "We used to have our prize blue ribbons in common, now my rose is gone and her vase is gone and so's our date."

Christine took Nigel's cup to refill. "Where on earth were you going to go for a date?"

"Oh. Well. Here," said Nigel. "You do serve food."

"He was doomed," said Amina.

"Didn't stand a chance," said Christine.

"I'm not hearing it. Neither of you have dated in over a quarter of a century, I'm not taking your 'expert advice'," said Nigel, from behind his hands. Oh yes. He could do that right now. Touch his face. He hadn't found his goddamned _glasses_ since the goose had waddled its way into his peaceful tidy life.

"The goose did a little performance for me. I thought it was dear," said Amina. "Maybe it was trying to play with you."

"That goose was evil. In the old days you'd get a knight to slay it, with half the village as his reward," said Christine. "And we'd give it to the knight, too. Goose like that."

"Nigel, listen," Amina said, "it's Loretta. We all know Loretta. Just... give her something shiny. Pretend you're penguins. Get a nice little rock and give it to her and she'll help you build a nest and you can sit on an egg for six months and I've lost track of this, I'm sorry. But really, just give her a rock. Don't throw it or you'll hit the soon-to-be-prize-winning bust, and you can't take that out until it has a ribbon too." She met Nigel's eyes and took a long, slow sip of her ginger ale.

"You know, she's an absolutely lovely woman," said Nigel.

"Yes. Of course she is. Shiny rock." 

"Mm, no," said Christine. "A woman like that needs more than a shiny rock. She needs some nice string too."

"You two are just being cruel," said Nigel stiffly. He started to stand up. Christine clasped one large hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down.

"You finish the ale so I can charge you for it. Got it?"

"Right. Yes." Nigel took his ale quickly. 

Amina spent the rest of his sullen gulping expositing on various interesting rock spots around the village. 

"And maybe for an _actual_ date, you could take her fossil hunting by the cliffs. Wouldn't that be nicer than coming to this dreary old pub?" she finished.

"I'm only agreeing so I don't have to watch it fail in real time," said Christine. "Otherwise watch your tongue."

Nigel shoved his now empty mug away and stood, somewhat unsteady.

"Good NIGHT, ladies. I hope you two have a terrible evening for laughing at my pain."

"Good luck to you too, Nigel," said Amina. She gave him a jaunty little wave. "Remember! Shiny object!" 

Ten minutes later, Nigel was cursing Amina in his head, searching through the thicket for something nice and nature-made to give Loretta as a peace offering. This was his quest. A gem for his lady. Or at least a nice chert.

He heard a distant honk.

" **You**." 

He took off after the noise. He hadn't any idea what he was going to do when he _found_ the goose. Shoo it. Give it a stern talking to. Ask it where his glasses were. 

But all he heard was the pattering of little orange feet as he came across... a treasure trove! All sorts of small interesting objects from the village, including the final resting place of all the 'goose get out' signs.

And sparkling on top of it was a tiny golden bell.

Nigel grabbed it.

He made his way out of the thicket, mindful that his shoes stayed exactly where they were (on his feet), and headed to Loretta's front door. 

He knocked.

She didn't answer immediately.

But when she did, she had a bouquet of newspaper flowers in her hands.

"I'm sorry I cut your rose," she said. "It really wasn't on purpose. I... thought about it and knew you wouldn't have broken my vase on purpose. It was kind of a crazy day, wasn't it? I made you these!" 

And finishing that, she shoved the flowers hard against his chest.

He stumbled back, then presented her with the bell.

"Found this," he said, suddenly shy.

"Oh!" said Loretta, examining it. "This'll go a treat on the bust. Come on! I'll show you, it's turned into a real found object project!" 

Heart singing, Nigel followed her into her back garden. It really was a good bust. He'd admired it before, but the adornments were new.

"Those are my glasses. I thought I'd lost them," he said. "And that's my hat. And my pipe."

"Oh," said Loretta.

"I'd... I'd like them back?" he said tentatively.

"Are you sure?" asked Loretta.

"Well. The glasses, please."

She reluctantly returned them.

"Loretta," said Nigel, "would you like to go to the cliffs tomorrow to fossil hunt?"

"Oh, that'd be nice. Yes, sure. See you at six? A.m.?"

"I'll already have been awake an hour," said Nigel warmly.

Once upon a time, there was a horrible goose who ruined everyone's day. But there's always another day.


End file.
